Through the packing shed…

Through-the-packing-shed

Wether or not it has anything to do with the old adage an apple a day keeps the doctor away I remain undecided but as long as I can remember we have always eaten an apple and sometimes several apples a day. Since we moved to Tasmania most of our apples have come from our ageing granny smith tree in the back garden or from Lee’s orchard in Dilston. The apples and pears of various varieties have been of consistantly good quality always having a freshness of flavour and juiciness. Which is more than I can say from the occasional forced purchases from Coles and Woolies. Sometimes when not being able to visit the Harvest or Evendale markets we drive up to Dilston and buy our supplies directly from Lee’s orchard packing shed. One cloudy day a month so ago we made such a trip and just as we parked by the packing shed the sun came out and bathed the apple trees in the late winter light needless to say I grabbed the camera and click. A few minutes later it rained…

Super warm yak wool poncho’s…

Super soft yak wool

Super warm, soft yak wool poncho’s and puff jackets at Evendale Markets. As an endorsement we purchased a few Yak wool throws from this seller and not only are the colours beautiful they are so comfortable to rest on. Highly recommended!

A basket full of needlepoint… The original pixel art!!!

A basket full of needlepoint... The original pixel art!!!
From the first time I entered our parish church as a young child I noticed the needle point kneelers that were made by the ladies of the congregation. Generally the decoration was of symbols that fitted into the context of the angelican church or just colourful repeted patterns and designs not too dissimilar to these in this basket. These kneelers were picked up as one entered the church and taken to the pew where each parishioner would spend the next hour or so participating in the service. I was always fascinated by the colorfull simplicity of these functional items of honest craft work. Most were made to a very high standard but I remember one week a stack of newly crafted kneelers were stacked in the vestibule. I followed my mother into church ahead of a friend, his sisters and parents followed, we all picked up a brand spanking new kneeler then made our way to the pew where we sat almost every week. Once seated there was a hinged shelf attached to the pew in front this was lowered on to the floor and the kneelers were then placed upon it. One then knelt and said a prayer about being humble and thankful for the opportunity to be in church for the service. A sentiment never completly understood by children of fifties! Then it happened, my friends sister started to giggle, she got a nudge from the parent she then serupticiously eye gestured to the kneeler and in turn four children started to smile and giggle even my mother developed a curled grin. One of the freshly minted kneelers had an image of Mary holding a baby Jesus, nothing funny about that. The problem was the maker of this kneeler had got Mary’s bare bussom proportions completely out of scale with the rest of the kneeler. Fact was these bare bussoms ocupied a full third of the kneeler. The children giggled through the first couple of hymns then as everyone sat for the lesson a parent notice the offending kneeler which was promptly turned over. That kneeler was never seen again. But for several weeks after, it was giggled and talked about and even looked for by all the children who learned of the wayward kneeler with the enormous bussoms…